Ambush
by Meredith Drake
Summary: After separating from Baldimor at Fangorn, Glenin continues her journey to Rivendell to find a surprise waiting for her in the foothills of the mountains.


**_Chapter 1:  
Ambush_**

Soft leather boots thudded dully against the ground as Glenin dismounted. Both Half-Elf and steed sighed with some relief at the sudden slow pace, tired after separating with Baldimor at Fangorn.

Slender fingers trailed absently through Hwarinengwion's raven mane, a stark contrast to the dun colored coat. Glenin murmured nonsense in Elvish, bringing the loyal beastie to a halt, stroking his neck. Horse and rider crossed the Celebrant, just before it met with the Anduin. From here, Glenin would go on foot, deeming it the safer option; it was easier to track a horse with a burden than a single pair of feet. The Half-Elf would free the horse a short distance in Lorien where he would be safe and wander unharmed in the forest.

Pulling her things down from the horse, she only kept her bedroll and a small ration of food. The rest was carefully hidden away from the untrained eye. Glenin then checked the stock of her quiver, satisfied with the number of arrows she had. The two long knives were in good condition along with the hidden daggers. Glenin's sword had long been left in the care of Eldarion at Minas Tirith.

Brown eyes suddenly swam before her vision, filled with care and concern of her distress. It fairly surprised Glenin that he felt enough for a mere stranger and yet Eldarion had dried her tears and was truly worried. _Well, why would he not be?_ She thought, _he is King and cares for his people and those under his protection_. Then her conscience whispered to her, _Then why did you give him the necklace?_ The Half-Elf scowled and threw down her bedroll once she found that the tips of her fingers touched where Eldarion had wiped her tear-stained cheeks. Grumbling to herself, she took a few hours of sleep before she bade farewell to Hwarinengwion and ventured further on her journey.

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Fitful sleep where dreams of brown eyes, smoke, and predominately, death woke the Half-Elf. A farewell was given to the horse and Glenin was off again, jogging over fairly flat terrain -- making good time.

Glenin hoped to read the foothills of the mountains soon, nearly half-way to Leog Ningloron. To her delight, her goal was met and she rewarded herself with a short repast, preparing for the climb ahead of her.

The Half-Elf's cheer soon turned sour as a familiar foreboding crept over her, much like she felt at Rauros Falls. Quickly, Glenin had bow in hand, notched with an arrow, and stealthily flitted between the rocks, seeking higher ground.

A shift of rocks and pebbles tumbling down the side of a cliff brought Glenin's attention to whip the bow in the direction of three grizzly looking men racing down the side. Toward her. Slightly agog by their appearance (for they were dressed in a goodly amount of animal skins), Glenin nevertheless took out two before the third leapt off the small cliff, where she finished him off in mid-air with an arrow right between the eyes.

Stepping aside as the lifeless body hit the rocky ground with a thud, an arrow was pointed at the carcass just in case. Head jerked up slightly as she heard movement behind her and ducked, just as a fist and a whoosh of sounded over her head. Snapping her fist that gripped the arrow backward, it was thrust in the soft flesh of a gut, accentuated by a piercing shriek of agony.

Nimble fingers produced a dagger and Glenin spun around to put the creature out of it's misery by slashing the poor man's throat. Movement out of the corner of her hazel eyes sent the dagger thusly in another's neck, protruding grotesquely at an odd angle.

That fact didn't occur to Glenin as she had been rammed from the other side, seeming from nowhere. Tucking into a ball as she fell, she rolled to her knees. Arms were outstretched as the rather burly fellow charged her, heedless of the bait he had become. _They obviously have no skill beyond swords and fisticuffs_, she thought as she used the man's momentum to roll back and fling him over. Gripping the man's arm as he was air borne, she twisted, punctuated by a sickening crack. With the speed her Elven blood gave her, Glenin snatched up her bow and made for higher ground.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not, in any way, shape, or form own the work that Tolkien created. All his character's, etc belong to him and him alone. However, I do own Glenin as she is my creation. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Note:** Not knowing exactly what Eldarion looks like, I created an eye color for him. Also, I do know that this isn't in the style of Tolkien. I couldn't ever hope to be a genius in that regard, so please excuse that lack of "Tolkien-ness" to the mini-story. This was actually done for an RPG I'm in and I liked it so much that I decided to post it to fanfiction.net.


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